


Shadow and Flame

by Lady_of_Greenwood



Series: Shadow and Flame [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 03:16:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12832155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_of_Greenwood/pseuds/Lady_of_Greenwood
Summary: A collection of independent shorts depicting the relationship of Melkor and Mairon through the ages





	1. Cooling Wrath

His anger burned bright, so bright that he already saw himself take hold of a random orc’s neck to snap it in two, but when Mairon’s hand landed on his shoulder - grounding, soothing, calming - the wrath slipped through his grasp. The soft hum of Mairon’s song was a balm to his wounded pride and body, meeting and entwining with his own so perfectly that it was near impossible to tell the two melodies apart.

He looked behind himself and met golden eyes, bright as flames, regarding him warmly, sympathetically. There was no pity there, only quiet understanding and a promise of revenge, blood and death, and once again Melkor was reminded that he loved this Maia with every fibre of his being, with or without a body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visit me on [Tumblr](http://lady--of--greenwood.tumblr.com/)


	2. Flaming Song

The songs of elves were poison to the ears of his and Mairon’s creations. Filled with light as they were, they could bring a lesser orc to its knees. The songs were the first thing the torturers - under Melkor and Mairon’s guiding hands - had them unlearn as soon as they were brought here.

Mairon’s songs were different. Though his voice was fairer than any elf’s, the notes and words as delicate as woven starlight, it was tinged with blood and death and darkness. It was a sound so beautiful and cruel that it filled every creature in Angband with a firey peace that moved them to ever better work.

And Melkor…Melkor could not get enough of the lilting, flowing words that floated on the smoke and shadows filling his halls. When Mairon danced through the throne room, the finely crafted black crown Melkor had given him a stark contrast to his pale skin and red hair, or when he sat lazily on a windowsill in their chambers, black clothing discarded in favour of loose robes of blood red, Melkor found himself thinking impossible things.

When he looked at his beloved lieutenant, heard his beautifully cruel songs, his thoughts would fly to his plans for this world.

Many more times than he could count he found himself promising silently to wrest the world from the hands of Manwë and his curs and lay it at Mairon’s feet.

And he knew Mairon would make it perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visit me on [Tumblr](http://lady--of--greenwood.tumblr.com/)


	3. Charred Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ar-Pharazôn makes an appearance

He found Sauron in the courtyard, standing before the newly erected monument of Morgoth. His expression was closed, his arms crossed over the white tree embroidered onto the front of his tunic. His silvery hair seemed dulled despite the sun standing high above their heads.

Ar-Pharazôn came to stand beside him, glancing across at the fair creature cautiously.

“Is it not to your liking?” he asked into the stillness that seemed to fall over the area, silencing even the workers and nobles mingling about.

Sauron sighed quietly, a sound that was disturbingly human coming from a being that radiated such pure, undiluted power as he did. He did not answer but moved forward instead, lightly stepping onto the wide steps that surrounded the obsidian effigy of his former master.

Long fingers reached out to trace the statue’s cheekbones and sweep along the sharp jawline, coming to rest upon the broad, armour clad chest just where the heart would be.

Reverence and longing mingled in the depth of his eyes, darkening the crystal blue to the murky hues of storm clouds.

“It is perfect,” he whispered, turning to gift the King with a small, wistful smile. If anyone other than Ar-Pharazôn noticed the glimmering sheen that lightened his eyes, they did not comment.

Above him, Morgoth’s eyes of stone and sapphire looked down at his lieutenant, and for a single moment even he appeared as if cloaked in sorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon that Mairon, red-haired and golden eyed, did not like anyone else looking at his preferred form after Melkor’s death. So instead he went as pale blond and blue eyed.
> 
> Visit me on [Tumblr](http://lady--of--greenwood.tumblr.com/)


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